Appendicitis

This may be a "part 1" - appendicitis is, for me, a big topic.  That's because - as you might guess - I had it not so very long ago.  And it was a very significant experience.

First of all, there's the knowledge that, if it had happened in another time and place, I'd be dead.  That's all.  I'd just be dead.  So what I have now, post-appendicitis, is in a sense a new life.  I need not have had it, but I do.

Second, there's the impact of the experience.  When I was feeling well enough to stand up and wash myself, I had the rather painful luxury of being able at the same time to look at myself in the mirror.  It was like getting a preview of what my body would look like in 5-10 years if I didn't take care of it.  It scared the heck out of me.

The combination of those two things was a little like that old movie, It's a Wonderful Life.  I got to see two alternate realities, with the opportunity to choose either of them - or something different.

In the Sweet Medicine Sundance healing paradigm, an illness is sometimes referred to as a "knock of spirit."  That is, it's our higher self's way of saying, hey, bud, wake up!  Is this what you really want to be doing?  Appendicitis was like that for me.  It's easy to say that at the time something like that happens, but - speaking for myself - the proof of it really comes later.  Did I really take the opportunity to change something?  Or did I just make a big fuss about how profound it was and go back to exactly what I was doing before?

I was just looking at this a few days ago, and realizing that I had indeed, without really acknowledging it (though certainly intentionally), made some significant changes in my life.  They're not really huge - certain things that I used to do with less dedication are not negotiable anymore; and I'm more likely to be guided by my body's needs rather than attempting to silence or distract from them. 

The changes are subtle enough that, until I sat down to write to a friend and did some reflection about my life now, I had not known they were in place.  I wasn't exactly trying to make them; I simply did.